


Masquerade Ball

by HQuinn



Series: Gifts [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 21:16:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5142728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQuinn/pseuds/HQuinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Anders attend a ball.  Both are afraid to share their feelings with the other.  When they finally do, they can't keep their hands off each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerade Ball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CateKK (Nymeria_Snow)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymeria_Snow/gifts).



> This story was the prize for a contest on the FB page "Anders Kittens", won by Nymeria_Snow. The story idea was hers.
> 
> If you like this, PLEASE leave me a Kudos or a comment to let me know. I can't tell you how much it makes my day when you do.

He watched her from across the ballroom. She was wearing a mask, but he'd know her anywhere. She was unaware he was even there, which afforded him the luxury of being able to just watch her at his leisure as she floated about the room. The gown she wore was quite the change from her usual attire of rogue leathers with a bow strapped to her back. Tonight she wore a black and white gown. The black form fitting bodice was covered in sequins. It opened into a billowing skirt of white, covered again in black. The front of the dress was held up with a ribbon around the back of her neck, and was cut enough to show a hint of cleavage. The back was open to the small of her back. There was no way she was wearing a breast band in that dress. The thought of that made his breeches feel tighter. Her mask had the same black sequins as her dress, covering just the top half of her face. The blackness of it made her blue eyes shine all the brighter beneath it.

 

When Varric had helped him with what to wear (including paying for it, which Anders swore he would pay him back for), he half thought the dwarf was playing a joke on him when insisting it was the latest in Orlesian fashion. Looking around the room at the other nobles, he was now grateful he had listened to him. Instead of his usual robes, the mage wore black breeches with knee length black leather boots over them. He had on a white dress shirt, and over that a knee length, fully open, black jacket with white embroidery down the center and along the cuffs. His mask also covered just the top of his face with a few black feathers along the side. His hair was not in it's normal style, opting instead to let it hang down loose.

 

Varric, who had procured an invite for Anders without Hawke knowing, was standing beside her as her date for the evening. Lyra had not wanted to attend, but finally relented to appease her mother. As she turned away from Anders' direction, he appreciated how her short black hair cut provided him a view of her shoulders. Those same delicious shoulders he had been kissing just the night before. They hadn't moved beyond kissing, but it was not for lack of desires on his part. He just had not wanted to push her, unsure of her feelings for him just yet. He had come to the realization days ago that he loved her. I had frightened Anders at first. He'd had many lovers over the years, but _love_ , that was something he had never allowed himself to feel before. But here he was, in love. He just hadn't told her yet, fear of rejection holding his tongue.

 

Anders knew that his being an apostate would not scare Hawke off from a serious relationship as both her father and sister had been apostates themselves. What kept him holding back, and in fact glued to the wall at this moment, was the fear that he was not good enough for her. She was now a noble, it was why she was at this ball in the first place. Not only was he _not_ a noble, he didn't have two silver pieces to rub together. He was a poor healer with only a run down clinic in Darktown to his name. What could he possibly offer her but a life of being hated and hunted because of what he was? There was no way at the end of the day that Lyra Hawke would possibly choose that, choose him, over the life of safety and security that a noble could offer.

 

All those thoughts of self doubt fled his mind the second he saw the noble she had just finished dancing with place a hand on the small of her back and lean in to whisper something in her ear. That man was flirting with Lyra, _his_ Lyra. She'd been dancing with several partners over the night, but this was the first to be so bold. Anders' possessiveness was enough to push him from the wall, and move him to where she, Varric, and the soon-to-be-on-fire noble stood.

 

***

 

Lyra was grateful Varric had accompanied her to this Maker Forsaken ball. She had asked him, knowing that he'd be able to tell her the ins and outs of who everyone was and to keep her from embarrassing herself with some high class faux pas. As much as she adored her best friend, Varric was not whose arm she really wanted to be on tonight. That honor belonged to a certain blonde healer that occupied her nearly every thought. Well, at least her mother was out of town, saving Lyra from having this night turn into another match-making attempt.

 

Her hand was currently squeezing Varric's shoulder hard enough that she knew she'd have to buy the dwarf drinks for a month to make it up to him. But, it was either that, or look for one of those tiny forks she had seen earlier to stab the noble in the eye. Duke Wandering-Hands currently had the audacity to place his hand just above her ass and whisper his dirty thoughts in her ear. She didn't need to check with Varric to know that stabbing a noble in the eye was not considered acceptable behavior.

 

The Duke's eyes left hers to look behind her. She heard a small cough and saw a gloved hand appear next to her.

 

“May I have this dance, my lady?” the owner of the hand asked.

 

Lyra shot Varric a look that screamed that if she had to dance with another handsy noble tonight she was going to find that tiny fork. “Varric... “ she said quietly as a warning.

 

Varric looked up at her with a smirk. “I promise, this will be the last one tonight, Hawke. Come on Duke, we can discuss trade. You'll find the Lady here is about to lose all interest in the rest of us.” He led the Duke away leaving Lyra with the gloved hand still hovering beside her.

 

She turned, contemplating how many ways she could maim and kill the dwarf. Those thoughts left her mind when her eyes fell upon the masked man behind her. Her hand touched his cheek, and she couldn't help the large grin from her face, the first real one she'd had since arriving at the ball. The mask he wore didn't keep her from knowing at an instant who it was, she would know his eyes anywhere.

 

“You're here,” she sighed, feeling her heart start to thrum in her chest. Anders took her hand from his cheek in his and pressed his lips softly to the back of it, grinning when he saw her blush.

 

He held her hand as he led her to the dance floor. Anders placed his one hand to the small of her back, hoping to erase the memory of the other man. His other hand held hers in the air. Lyra wrapped her hand along his arm.

 

They swayed to the music for several moments, just staring into each other's eyes. Just the feeling of being in his arms, of him even touching her (even through gloves) excited her. She knew from their first kiss that this was more than a fling to her. The heat in his eyes as he was looking at her made her want to simultaneously melt and pull him into an unlocked room and rip off his clothing.

 

It felt like a dream to have him here, dancing with her. She hadn't asked him, believing he'd be uncomfortable. If she was honest, she had also been afraid he might confirm her worries that he did not view their relationship at the same level she did. But he was here, and looking at him, it was clear he had put effort into his appearance for tonight.

 

“You're really here,” she sighed again.

 

Anders chuckled warmly, “So you said. You look incredible, Lyra.”

 

She blushed at the compliment. She'd heard that many times this night, but his had been the only opinion that mattered to her. “You look amazing yourself.” She unconsciously ran her hand along his arm.

 

“If it wouldn't cause a scandal, I would kiss you right now,” he whispered, loud enough for only her to hear.

 

“I would happily have a scandal if it meant your lips were on me,” she replied, blushing a moment later when she realized the implications of what she had inadvertently alluded to. She hoped he hadn't noticed. The heat in his eyes, told her he most definitely had.

 

He said nothing in reply, and when the song ended he led her to the dessert table where Varric was standing, thankfully without the Duke. She nibbled at her lower lip afraid that her slip up had upset him. The fact that he hadn't spoken since concerned her. His hand was still on her lower back, which did give her some hope.

 

“I'm going to keep you supplied in ale for a year, Varric,” she winked at him as she stood next to him. He smiled in reply and nodded to Anders.

 

Before she could say something more she felt a warmth from her back, which quickly moved to her abdomen. It was an exhilarating feeling, and made her heart beat faster and her breath catch. Her knees nearly went weak, as she felt once again the need to pull those blighted clothes from him.

 

“Was that you?” she asked, still looking over the dessert table, but turning her head to watch him. He didn't reply, but the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth told her his answer. “Maker, keep doing that and I'll have to drag you into a dark corner.”

 

He leaned close enough that his lips nearly touched her ear. His breath on the lobe and her neck caused shivers down her spine before he even spoke. “Sweetheart, if you think that will deter me, you have no idea then just how much I want to peel you out of that dress.”

 

Ok, he was definitely _not_ scared off by her slip earlier.

 

“Varric, I thank you for tonight, but I must be off.” Lyra smiled.

 

Varric winked and nodded as Lyra grabbed Anders hand, pulling him out the door.

 

***

 

The door to the estate barely closed before Anders had her pinned to the wall. Lyra gripped his jacket by the front, holding him to her as they kissed. “Tell me we're alone,” he said pulling back only slightly.

 

“Mother's out of town, everyone else is with her.” she nodded.

 

Anders grinned, kissing her again. His kisses alone were enough to melt her. His lips left hers, and began moving slowly along her jaw, stopping when he approached her ear. “Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?” his breath hot on her ear.

 

He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her up as her knees buckled. She knew just what pleasure he could give having heard many stories from Isabella from her run ins with him his Denerim. And now his full focus was on her. The thought alone was making her wet.

 

“Anders, bedroom, now!” she groaned, pulling him urgently towards the steps. She was only half way up the steps before he turned her around, her back hitting the wall as his lips moved down her neck, moving along her cleavage in slow, wet, hard kisses. Lyra moaned, her hands delving into his hair holding him close. His hands held her hips, kneading them with his fingers, slowly driving her crazy. Lyra moaned, words failing her. He stood up, kissing her lips again, this time rolling his hips against hers. She cried out his name, blushing at the look of smugness on his face when she did. Lyra grabbed his jacket again, “I want you out of this, on my bed, right now.”

 

“As you wish,” he replied kissing her once before stepping back to let her lead him back up to the room again.

 

Once in her room, she latched the door and then turned her eyes on Anders, moving them up and down, admiring the view as he removed his boots. She stepped in front of him, pushing the jacket off of him, and tugging on his shirt to remove them from his breeches. She could feel her body getting warmer from the heat in his eyes while she did. Anders reached his arms back removing his shirt and dropping it to the floor alongside the jacket. He was magnificent. His abdomen muscular, unlike most mages. She ran an appreciative hand along his chest, down to his six pack. He watched her, his breathing shallow, his eyes full of desire, yet he seemed content to let her explore. She leaned forward, placing a kiss where his neck met his shoulder, slowly kissing down along his chest, His hands closed softly around her upper arms. “Let me see you, Sweetheart.” he said in a low, heated voice.

 

She rose up, looking at him. Anders reached behind her head, pulling her into a kiss. His hand undid the ribbon tied behind her neck. When he stepped back her dress fell to her feet. She suddenly felt nervous under his gaze, covering her breasts with her arms. He reached for them, pulling them back as he stepped close again. “Don't hide from me, you're beautiful.” He kissed her again, as one hand ran down her side to her hip. It ran along the lacy smalls she wore. “But who were these for?” he asked, with an eyebrow raised.

 

“I was hoping Varric would send you,” she smiled, blushing.

 

Anders growled, his breeches becoming tighter. He brought a hand up to cup one of her breasts, running his thumb along the nipple until it stiffened. Lyra grabbed onto his shoulder for support moaning loudly while he did. He slowly walked her to the bed. When her knees hit the bed, he eased her up towards the pillows and lowered himself over her. Lyra's hands moved down Anders' chest again, untying his breeches as he kissed her slowly, moving his lips along her neck again. Once they were loosened, her hand reached inside and she wrapped her hand around his hard length. He pressed his nose against her neck, and moaned as she began to move her hand. “Lyra” he moaned.

 

She continued moving her hand as he began to pump his hips into her hand, moaning and nipping at her shoulder as she did. After several minutes he pulled her hand away. “Not yet, love. I'm not ready for this to be done just yet.”

 

Anders made his way down her body, kissing slowly as he went, before taking a breast in his mouth and running his tongue along her nipple as he sucked. Lyra arched her back, crying out. He trailed a hand along her tight stomach sliding into her smalls. He ran a finger through her wet heat, slicking it before he ran back to her clit and began drawing small circles as he pressed another into her. Lyra moaned, her stomach beginning to flutter. She could feel herself getting wetter as he did. He moved to her other breast with his hot mouth when she felt a suddenly jolt of electricity hit her from the finger inside her. She came instantly, gripping his arms and arching back, her mouth pulled into an O, her eyes fluttering shut as she screamed out his name.

 

So _that_ was the electricity trick. No wonder Isabella couldn't stop talking about it years later.

 

“Anders, please,” she moaned, coming down from her climax.

 

He moved back up to whisper in her ear, covering her body with his again. “Please what, Lyra” he asked.

 

“Please, I want you. Please Anders, I need you,” she kissed his face, his cheeks moving back to his lips.

 

Anders nuzzled her neck again, “Anything you want,” he nibbled her ear. Lyra wiggled out of her smalls as he stood long enough to take off his breeches and smalls before moving back on top of her.

 

She took his length in her hand again, guiding him to her. Anders took her hand, holding it in his beside her head and pushed in. His head hit the pillow next to her, his eyes closed as they both tried to catch their breath. After waiting so long, he was finally inside her, finally as close as they could be. She twitched her hips signaling for him to move. He obeyed, starting off slowly before he sat back and pulled her legs around his hips and began to pound into her.

 

Lyra grabbed the pillow by her head and arched into him as she moaned louder than she ever had, screaming out his name, suddenly grateful that the house was empty. The fluttering in her stomach began again. As if he could tell, he reached one hand down and began massaging her clit again. “Come for me love.” he told her, and she obeyed. Anders slammed into her three more times before falling over the edge again, falling on top of her.

 

They lied like that for a few minutes before he kissed her neck softly. Lyra turned her head, pressing her lips to his. He rolled off of her, pulling her alongside him. Anders brushed back her sweat drenched hair from her face and kissed her forehead. Lyra decided to press her luck one more time, and looked at him.

 

“I love you, Anders.” she said, watching his face for a reaction.

 

There was no missing that he felt the same, his grin large. “I love you too, Lyra.” They kissed again before falling asleep in each other's arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lyra Hawke and (this) Anders are Nymeria_Snow's OCs from her story "Devotion"  
> Give it a read, it's sweet and angsty and beautiful: <http://archiveofourown.org/works/5237969/chapters/12081977>


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